28 September 2007: Band Camp - Kuwait style

R&R is a journey that, unfortunately, goes through Kuwait. Why is it a bad thing to go through Kuwait? Keep reading.

Today is the beginning of my trip that will eventually begin my R&R. That means the start of a circuitous journey that many soldiers have taken. It begins by flying from Iraq to Kuwait. It was an early flight for me, or supposed to have been. My show time was 0700. Most of my team is out on mission but those that are still in Balad came out to wish me well. Around 1100 I boarded a very full C130 for the hour flight to Ali Al Salem Air Base, Kuwait. Since Kuwait time is an hour behind Iraq we arrived at 1130. We sat on the tarmac for about thirty minutes. It seems nobody knew we were coming. Welcome to Kuwait!

Finally, around 1210 a bus arrived and drove us over to the big pax terminal complex. Ali Al Saleem is the gateway to all military going to or coming from Iraq and Afghanistan. They have terminals for deploying, redeploying, emergency leave, TDY, R&R, and other purposes. It seems as though they’d have a well-oiled system after all the people they’ve had come through. It seems anyway. We waited for over two hours for our baggage pallet to be brought around. In the meantime, I went to a warehouse and turned in my IBA for storage (SOP for R&R). The folks in the R&R terminal checked me in and told me what time to come back. I then went to billeting and was assigned a tent.

Ah the Kuwait follies were in full force. Any U.S. Military installation in Kuwait is like band camp. Joes are allowed to wear civilian clothes – and they often do. It’s hard to tell who is military and who isn’t. It’s hard to tell if anyone is working. Everybody appears to be at the PX, the food court, the MWR, or just out wandering aimlessly. Quite frankly, I’m not certain if anyone actually does have a job here. As the evening fell I was drawn to the sound of live outdoor music (something that almost never happens in Iraq). It was a rockabilly blues band. They weren’t bad. Some of their music was really good. A lot of Joes were salivating over the bass player. She was a sleek, tall, and sexy woman. I could tell the wolves were gathering for the post-set love attempts. The crowd was the goofiest part. It was a mix bag of civilian clothes and uniforms. There were boys and girls sitting arm-in-arm. Shit, there had to have been a little lip-lock action somewhere in the shadows. I couldn’t tell who was military. Nobody acted military. It was a surreal scene that is only played out in Kuwait. It was easy to pick out the transient Joes from Iraq or Afghanistan. They were in uniform, staring in disbelief, and confounded at the behavior of the people around them. It’s an unbelievable, undisciplined spectacle. It’s 24-hours a day. It’s Kuwait. I can’t spend more than a few hours in Kuwait without getting overwhelmed by a nauseating feeling. The best view of Kuwait is always in the rear view mirror.

Thank God I’m only transient here. My next stop is R&R. It’s ok to lip-lock and wear civilian clothes in public back home on R&R. It’s ok to drink beer too.

27 September 2007: Now it's time for R&R

Most of the time, it’s easy to be me because I have fun doing just about anything. Sometimes it ain’t easy being me. It just seems the week before R&R would be easy street. Unfortunately, it hasn’t been that way. I already described the pain of writing the awards. The pain being the knowledge of how the approval process works and knowing that my soldiers will be at the mercy of people they’ve never met, never served for. I mean, it’s a pleasure to write these awards. My soldiers are awesome. Fortunately, I know they aren’t in it for just a ribbon. I finished the awards and they are all out of my hands now. The other pain this week has been sudden pressure to move from our current building to another. Oh what a story it has been!

I’m not going to bore anyone with the details. It’s just another one of those “he said, she said bullshit” moments. When we returned from Mosul I was asked by the XO of our supporting unit to come up with a plan to move into a new building. The new building wasn’t ready for us to move. Besides, my team has several missions beginning during the course of this week. Knowing full well we wouldn’t be moving this week I gave her a plan that we’d move as we had a break in missions. Given our mission schedule upcoming, it could well be January before we finish the move. Well…. Somehow she reported this as my team saying that we wouldn’t move. Next thing you know I’m getting phone calls and e-mails from our command asking why I’m not in compliance with the move. I had to put on the big diplomacy hat and smooth things over. Like I said, it was he said she said bullshit. Everyone is happy now but it took all week for me to sort the XO out.

The only thing left was to pack for my trip. Don’t ask why but I was up until 0300. Maybe I’m excited about going home. I’m sure that’s a big reason. Having to deal with idiots outside my team this week surely didn’t help the stress level. Common sense in judgment and decision making isn’t always a ready commodity for some people. Occasionally, I have to dust off the diplomacy hat and smooth out hurt feelings or ruffled egos. It’s a shame to have to do that in this environment. This is the Army after all.

26 September 2007: I can smell R&R

This could actually be my last entry before I travel for R&R. I’ve finally tied up the last loose end I talked about previously. Now I just need to wait until time to pack. All the awards are complete. I’ve submitted them to the chain-of-command. It’s a waiting game now. Slowly but surely the stress I talked about yesterday will dissipate. A few beers will help. I’ve been living at my desk in the office for about three days straight now. An imprint of my butt cheeks is permanently formed on my chair. I did take time to hit the gym to work out some of the tension. I ate. The only thing I haven’t done much of is sleep. I’ve had very little of that. I’ll probably snooze the entire plane ride (there are several of those) headed home. All of my team has already beaten me out the door. They’ve departed on various missions. This is the first time since I deployed that I missed any of my team’s missions. It’s in good cause though. If it were anything other than R&R I’d be quite upset. I can’t wait to go home for a couple of weeks.

Is anyone paying attention to my temperature gauge? It’s only getting up to around 100 these days. The mornings are actually pleasant. By the time I get back we may even see rain. The worst of summer is over. We made it.

If you don’t hear from me in a few days it’s because I can’t get to a computer. I’ll tell you about my trip home as soon as I get the chance.

25 September 2007: The stresses of writing awards

One of the toughest things for a leader to do is to ensure that all subordinates are properly recognized for a job well done. It’s not that it is hard to acknowledge good work. The tough part is making sure that there is equity. In the Army this is extremely tough. All awards have to go through an approval process with the chain-of-command. Most of the time the process is very subjective because soldiers awards recommendations are reviewed by people they’ve never met (or served with). Although the Army would never admit this, there are also quotas for every unit that deploys that limits the number of specific awards that can be earned. For example, the cap on Bronze Star Medals may be 10% for each unit. If a soldier earned the award but the quota has been reached it means a guarantee “downgrade” of the award to something less. It’s very stressful for leaders who care sincerely for the well-being of their soldiers. This is shaping up to be a very stressful week for me. I’ve been spending the entire day writing award recommendations for my soldiers.

You might be wondering why I’m writing awards now. After all, there are several months left for the deployment. The answer is that the chain-of-command has time requirements for the approval process. I have to have awards submitted in accordance with the suspense date I’ve been provided. In my case, that date falls over my R&R. I’m not about to work over R&R. Therefore, I’m getting these award recommendations completed now. It’s stressful because I have to be very meticulous in documentation of facts while writing recommendations in strong enough wording to be convincing. I basically have to sell the recommended award to people in my chain-of-command I’ve never met. I firmly believe in what I recommend for my soldiers. They work hard, have incredible morale, and are an absolute joy to be around. It would be gut-wrenching to me if one of my soldiers was not properly rewarded for his performance. Yet, once I submit my recommendations I have no further control. They’ll be approved (or denied) by people I don’t know.

This is what occupied my time today. Some of you reading this have been in my shoes and know exactly what I’m referring to. For everything I’ve put up with so far in this deployment, this is by far the most stressful week I’ve had. It comes right before R&R. Shit that first beer couldn’t be better timed! Next week I’m going to be on easy street without cares.

Once I get these awards completed and forwarded I can only pray. I will too. I will pray for their approval. I will pray my soldiers continue to stay safe over my R&R. I will pray that God continues to see us through to the end of our deployment without incident. His guiding hand has worked to perfection this far.

24 September 2007: Day 200

Damn that was fast! 200 days have blown by. Just think of all the fun I’ve shared over that time. Don’t fret – there are at least another 165 days (minus R&R) of fun and adventure for me to report. My team is just warming up. For all the travel and missions I’ve been on the first 200 days I have at least double coming up. That means I’ll have many chances to discover more Joe latrine philosophy, Squeakers capers, AF shenanigans, indirect fire alerts, helicopter joy rides, and other highlights of life in OIF.

Right now I’m just attempting to close every loose end I’ve presently got unraveling before I go on leave. As soon as I got back from Mosul I was tasked to plan for moving our office to another building. That’s a whole different story that I won’t get into right now. At the same time, I have awards that I need to write for some of my soldiers so they can be submitted for review and approval according to the guidelines provided in our SOP. Oh yeah, we also have more missions starting this week so I’m trying to get the team ready to move out. By the time I leave for R&R I’ll be alone in Balad. Everyone else will be out somewhere doing their job. I’ll go find them when I return from leave.

I’m not certain why the most stressful week I’ve had turns out to be the one in which I go on leave. Oh well, it will make me appreciate that first beer so much more. Everyone seems irritable right now. It’s not my team. The folks we interact with regularly here in Balad just seem agitated. I think it all stems from the move to the new building. I’m just trying to be the diplomat and keep everyone happy. Soon my team will be back out on mission, I’ll be home for a few days, and we’ll all be focused on something other than petty administrative shit. When we have time on our hands the little things suddenly become the big issues.

Days until I drink a Yuengling: 7

Fuckin’ A!

23 September 2007: "Do-nothing" Sunday

After staying up late to watch LSU beat South Carolina I had no interest in doing anything but sleep late. Sunday morning at the hooch after a late night means I’m not doing anything but lounging. That’s exactly what I did. I made coffee, caught up on the rest of the college football scores, and did a little “barracks maintenance.” I am on the glide path to R&R.

This amounted to one of the most do-nothing days I’ve had deployed. I have no regrets. I spent a little time at the office taking care of e-mail. I stopped by the gym. I poked my head in at the PX (didn’t’ buy anything). Hell, I even cruised over to Green Beans to see how karaoke was coming along.

When I went to karaoke I found out that they still haven’t restored the computer-based system. That really sucks because when they are relying on discs the song selection is really bad. It’s unfortunate because the place was packed. I didn’t entertain though. I said hello to a few folks and then cruised on back to the hooch. I watched the second half of the Texans – Colts game.

I’ve got some observations to share three games into the NFL season. The Patriots are the best team by far. The Colts are winning on lucky bounces of the ball. The Steelers are a fluke and will be exposed very soon. The Chargers are in disarray. If the season were to go to playoffs right now we’d see the Patriots and Cowboys in the Super Bowl (Patriots would roll). Here’s some advice for you fantasy football fans – don’t ever listen to the advice of the so-called experts on ESPN or other channels. Every single player the experts said to bench this week had breakout games (take Brian Westbrook for example).

I’m ready for R&R.

22 September 2007: Fake Porn

I completely forgot to mention something goofy that happened yesterday. It involves the “fake porn” that’s available for purchase in any PX. These are magazines like Maxim. They have bikini, or lingerie, clad women on the covers and risqué photo spreads on the inside. They make up over half the magazines offered on any PX shelf. Basically, the powers that be have determined that they don’t violate General Order 1. When we walked into the Marez PX it was so one of my guys could buy some Skoal. The magazine shelf was the first thing we saw walking inside. There were several copies of a special edition Black Men magazine that featured the “Best of Coco.” I was told later that she is Ice Cube’s wife. Anyway, as I walked in and saw the magazine cover I exclaimed, “Holy guacamole!” My team laughed and gathered around the magazine. After we finished shopping, which meant the Coastie found his Skoal, we filed back out to our NTV. As the Coastie pulled his dip out of the shopping bag he dropped a magazine in my lap and said, “Sir, we got you a gift.” You got it – it was Coco. I flipped through the rest of the magazine with the rest of the team drooling over my shoulder. Then I passed it back for the guys to enjoy. I came to some conclusions about Coco – she’s very intellectual, plays chess, enjoys tennis, and is probably a shoe-in for a future Nobel Prize.

We made it back to Balad last night. My SOP for late night returns from mission is that I don’t expect to see anyone around the office until after lunch. Given the fact that today was also a Saturday it meant everyone was off for the weekend. I’m going into stand-by mode. My next place of appointed duty is R&R. In the meantime, I’m getting my team ready for our next round of missions. The entire time I’m on leave the team will be out performing their jobs. I fully expect to return from leave and head straight out to join them somewhere. Leave comes first and I am fuckin’ psyched!

The Major who is covering for me while I’m gone is a graduate of LSU and LSU Law School. It’s a given that he’s an LSU football fan. I am too – by virtue of living in Baton Rouge for nine years. AFN aired the LSU – South Carolina game. It didn’t kick off until 2300. Regardless, we stayed up and watched. LSU won 28-16. My other football observations for NCAA were that Army still sucks, Navy had an incredible comeback, Notre Dame will can Charlie Weis, and I’m sorry my parents had to endure watching Clemson crush N.C. State. Isn’t it cool that no matter what our backgrounds, differences, similarities, or opinions we can always come together for football?

The LSU game didn’t end until 0300. For some reason I couldn’t go right to sleep. Instead I read and listened to “The Chrome Cranks”.

21 September 2007: Tourists for the day

Day two in Mosul was for us. My team and I were strictly tourists. Our flight show time wasn’t until 1600. That gave us all day to drive around and see the sights. The only thing to see was the ruins of the ancient monastery. I’ve already seen the place. We were hoping to be able to tour the inside. However, the chaplains’ office wasn’t available. They control the tours and own the keys to the fence that surrounds the ruin. Regardless, we drove to the place and happily snapped photos from outside the fence. Although I already talked about the monastery during my previous visit to FOB Marez, I’ll mention some facts. The place was established back around 500 A.D. I was within the Holy Roman Empire. As a matter of fact, northern Iraq has several ruins (such as Hatras) that are from the empires of Constantinople. The monastery itself isn’t much to look at. Surrounding grounds are worn down and overrun. I’ve been told that inside the remaining ruin is an underground courtyard. There are also tombs. The chaplains’ office controls the sight to ensure there is no destruction of historic property. Strangely enough, there is still an old Iraqi army mortar position on the grounds. The mortar tube still sits on ominous display.

I guess we stuck around the ruins for about an hour. We also took a few pictures of the junkyard that sits adjacent to the ruins. I noticed some Albanian soldiers snooping around the rusting tanks and cannons. We’re not supposed to climb around on that stuff because, supposedly, there’s unexploded ordnance. That didn’t deter the Albanians. We joked that they were probably looking for spare parts. There really isn’t much to see so it wasn’t surprising when everyone quickly grew bored. Other than a few Bradley fighting vehicles driving around kicking up dust, there wasn’t anything else to see. So, we all went back to our hooches and took a nap.

At 1600 we checked in for our return to Balad. The Mosul pax terminal is awesome. It’s the nicest one we’ve seen. It was an actual airport terminal before the invasion. The place has an internet café, a coffee bar, television, and ample indoor and outdoor seating. Adjacent to the terminal is an MWR that was made out of an existing, ornate building. My theory is that it was a pilots’ officer club at one time. The MWR is also one of the best I’ve seen. All of this combined for an easy wait for the airplane. That was good because the C130 ended up being late by several hours. At supper time we drove back over to the Diamondback DFAC. True as advertised, it was karaoke night. I didn’t sing anything. Some poor Joe was belting out a terrible country tune when we walked in. Nobody else volunteered. That was the extent of DFAC karaoke.

Night had fallen by the time we returned to the airfield. The Mullahs had begun the calls to worship again. In the distance I could make out a TV in a building on Diamondback. After watching awhile, I realized that whoever it belonged to was watching South Park. I found myself wishing I was close enough to watch. I haven’t seen an episode of South Park since January. Inside the terminal a contract civilian wearing ACU’s was yucking it up with a female Major. He must’ve been doing well because she was giggling like a coed. She was leaning back on a counter in a suggestive pose that said, “I am open to anything you want to suggest.” I halfway expected them to start making out right there. They might as well have been hooking up at a bar.

We made it back to Balad. It was another surreal night. This is one of the times I realize how hard it is to convey the sights and sounds of daily life here. I’m glad I’m witness though.

20 September 2007: Mosul Reprise

We’re only going to be in Mosul for a couple of days. This is one of the short missions where we teach classes. Unlike last time I was here, I’m not staying on FOB Marez. Instead, my team is housed on FOB Diamondback. It’s the LSA that surrounds the airfield. Marez is adjacent, but you have to pass through a serpentine checkpoint. Interestingly, our classes were taught at the Marez MWR. The last time I was at this MWR was for the blowout Cinco de Mayo fiesta. Some of the decorations were still hanging from the ceiling. I know it’s been four months ago. I guess taking down the Cinco de Mayo decorations isn’t a top priority.

Mosul is a city of several hundred thousand (mostly Kurds). It’s pretty peaceful here in the north. The Kurds have self-governed for years now and aren’t interested in disruptive violence. Ramadan began recently as well. The city is practically right outside the hesco barriers of the FOB. The rooftops and spires of mosques are quite visible. A person can’t help but notice the twinkling lights of the city at night. Another nice touch is the rolling hills. The further north you go in Iraq the more mountainous the terrain becomes. Mosul isn’t exactly surrounded by mountains. However, the rolling hills are a welcome break from the pancake-flat terrain further south. I think this region of the world has been continually inhabited for about 8000 years. I know it has seen the rise and fall of many an empire.

Although we were all pretty smoked from our early morning arrival, I told the supported unit to leave the start of our classes for 0900. Around 0700 I met up with my team and we went to breakfast. The unit had loaned us a Chevy Suburban so we had no problems getting around in style. The Diamondback DFAC was practically empty. As we walked in we noticed the signs advertising “Karaoke Dinner Friday.” I’ve never seen a DFAC that hosted such a venue. It will be interesting to see what that’s all about. Anyway, around 0800 we drove over to FOB Marez. It was a beautiful day. The temperature was perfect. As we drove through the checkpoint that separates Diamondback and Marez we saw that the coalition troops here are from Albania. As the day progressed we encountered the Albanians everywhere – on the internet in the MWR, in the DFAC, shopping at the PX, and cruising the stores run by the locals. They seemed much more like happy tourists than soldiers.

Our classes proceeded without a hitch. By 1500 we were done. Most of us took a nap to make up for our earlier arrival. I think we went back to the DFAC around 1900. Afterward, we stopped by the Diamondback PX. I bought a six pack of Beck’s non-alcoholic to go with some cigars we brought along. Once back at our hooches we sat around, smoked cigars, and drank our fake beer. It was a surreal setting. In the cool night air we were surrounded by the calls of the Mullahs at the Mosques. Since the city wraps around the FOB, the calls from the mosques were coming from every direction and echoed off the jersey barriers. The calls must’ve been part of the traditions of Ramadan. They were spooky, yet soothing. It’s strange but that’s the description that comes to mind.

Unfortunately, our conversation turned to the Red Sox. How in the hell can the lead be down to one and a half games? Damn if it ain’t happening again. Oh well, the Yankees still suck.

19 September 2007: So long SPC Bateman!

A chapter came to a complete close today. That chapter started way back in April. It was a little contest called "Balad Idol." I won't go into the whole story again. Refer back to my entries from April and you can read all about the fiasco. The fireworks all began when I came to the defense of a poor Army specialist who had been put on the spot by the senior AF Chief in Iraq. His name is SPC Bateman. Turns out that he entered the contest again, taking third place. I made a triumphant return to H6 MWR to cheer him on. Well, SPC Bateman's deployment has come to an end. His unit is heading back to Arkansas. Fifteen months of route clearance operations around Balad are completed. Damn if Bateman and his Arkansas boys didn't earn a trip home. The work they've been performing is some of the most harrowing operations in Iraq. They were the guys going outside the wire looking for IED's, EFP's, and other deadly traps along the roadways. That's right - I said LOOKING for them. That way other people could travel the roads safely. Despite having such a stressful job, SPC Bateman was always happy, upbeat, and he loved to sing. I will miss seeing him out at karaoke. I consider him my friend and I'm glad to have met such a good kid. I would come to his defense any day of the week.

I knew Bateman was leaving but thought he'd already departed. A few days ago I ran into him in the DFAC. He told me he was headed home. Fortunately, I got to say goodbye. I was traveling to Mosul for a mission. It just so happened that my team and I were flying fixed wing instead of helicopters. When I dropped by the pax terminal I heard someone calling me. It was Bateman. He was there with his whole company of combat engineers. He and several others that I'd met gathered around and we chatted for awhile. I had interrupted their last meal in Iraq - Taco Bell. We said our goodbyes. He told me about the big party they were having back in Arkansas. It just really made my heart swell with pride to know such good people. I'm also very thankful that he and his unit made it the whole year without losing anyone. Soon after we talked they all filed out to board the C130 that took them to Kuwait. From there they head back home. Since the unit is Army National Guard they will all be back to their civilian lives very soon. They'll remain brothers for life though.

Around 2200 I loaded up in another C130 headed north with four other members of my team. We had several stops. We made stops at Al Assad, Q-West, and then Mosul. I haven't been to Mosul since early May. It's amazing to think that's four months past. We didn't get in until around 0200. We'll be here for a few days. Upon exiting the aircraft we immediately felt the cooler temperatures. It's actually pleasant here. We're far enough north that the temperatures are noticeably cooler.

This will be my last mission before R&R. That is an awesome thought!

18 September 2007: Temperatures are breaking

As I look back on Tuesday I realize how much I really paid attention to anything that was going on. We’ve got another mission upcoming and there was some minor planning for the trip. Everyone is back now from previous missions so the whole team is together for the first time in a month. It will be a short-lived stay. I’ve mainly recommended that everyone get in some recovery time so they can be refreshed for the future missions. That doesn’t make for exciting blog commentary though. I hope you understand. Sometimes I just don’t really have much to talk about.

I did hold one formal training event today. I briefed my AAR from the mission down in Camp Liberty (to include Camp Taji and UNION III). There were lots of learning points so it fostered some good discussion. We finished in time for lunch. Post-lunch saw everyone dispersing. I didn’t mind. Hell, I went for a nap too.

Here’s some more good news – the temperatures are breaking. That’s right! We are only experiencing highs around 110 now. The worst of the heat is past.

17 September 2007: Week 28 begins

And so another week begins. By my count, this is week number 28. It doesn’t seem like such a long time when expressed in weeks. Given that 365 days breaks down into 52 weeks, 28 weeks down means I’m over halfway through the deployment. I guess the same math logic would hold true if I used days as the units. 28 out of 52 just sounds better.

I’m getting so close to R&R now. Normally, people take R&R right at the halfway mark. Everyone who is deployed for at least a year gets to take fifteen days of leave. The only rule is that it has to be taken all together and it can’t conflict with mission requirements. My leave will take place at the seven month mark. When it’s time for a soldier to take R&R, he’ll catch a flight to Kuwait. Once there, the Joe has to attend some mandatory briefings. Part of that includes getting a ticket booked to his home. The flight out of Kuwait is called an “R&R Bird” and goes to Atlanta. The ticket is provided to Joe so he can fly from there to home. It’s a roundtrip. Fortunately, Joe doesn’t have to pay – it’s all on Uncle Sam. Once the fifteen days is up Joe will fly back to Atlanta and from there to Kuwait. Normally, Joe is back with his unit within four days of leaving home. I get to experience all of this very soon.

What will I do on R&R? There’s so much I’d like to do but only so much time available. That means I certainly won’t do everything I want. It will be a chance to immerse myself among friends, family, and civilization. Just when I get used to being back it will be time to leave. My photo today shows the mileage to at least one stop I’ll be making (and I’m not referring to Baghdad). I’ll certainly be drinking a few Yuenglings too. I’m trying not to commit to anything though. I don’t want anyone to be disappointed. I’ll do what I can and see everyone possible.

I’m getting way ahead of myself too. I guess I’m just daydreaming about leave. That’s pretty much all I did today. I did some work too. My after-action review from the last mission was completed. I still had two of my team members up north at COB Speicher completing a mission. They flew back. After being away for three weeks they were very happy to be back. I picked them up at Catfish Air. When I dropped them off at their hooches I told them not to come into work the next day. My expectations of them were to get a lot of sleep. They had no problem with that.

R&R is coming up real soon. Did I mention that?

16 September 2007: Running with the "runs"

What’s in a day off? I doubt I did much of anything that any person reading this entry would find interesting. Today was the first complete day off I’ve had in a month. Since I’ve been fighting the cobwebs of the last mission my first priority was to sleep in. For some reason I couldn’t. I only made it until about 0800. My eyes popped wide open and simply wouldn’t cooperate with me. I got up, made coffee, and lounged about. My hooch isn’t very big so lounging about isn’t like being back home. I either sit on my bed or on a plastic, stackable chair. It’s got one room and I share the bathroom. AFN doesn’t have much in the way of programming on Sunday mornings. The best I could do was catch up on college football scores. I’d call this weekend a mediocre one for NCAAF. It looks like USC will be ranked number one for another week. Army sucks as usual. Navy lost – surprisingly.

As I started to get moving I realized there really was no hurry to do a thing. That’s about the philosophy I pursued for the whole day. Lunch was followed by a fitful nap. I don’t know why it was fitful. I watched some of “Forrest Gump” on AFN Movie. Soon I was off to the gym. I went to the AF H6 so I could use their treadmills (and better AC). Everything was going smooth until halfway into my run. That’s when some kind of “Montezuma’s Revenge” hit me. I had to cut the run short due to a case of the runs. Fortunately, it was a one-time challenge that subsided after the big push. My workout was ruined though.

My big evening event was watching the Titans – Colts game. It was the “early” game on AFN Sports. Let me be blunt – I HATE THE COLTS. I truly believed the Titans would prevail. They came damn close. It seemed as though Vince Young would pull off another miracle. Did anyone watch the game other than me? Every down the Colts ran eight or nine men in the box with a “spy” on Young. Unfortunately, it worked in the end and the game ended 22-20. I don’t even have to say who won. It was midnight by the time the game ended. I went straight to bed.

The Patriots were on too. I would have had to get up at 0400 to watch though. That means I didn’t watch the game. I’d be sure they won though. I’ll bet it was a happy Sunday night at the Ivy Tavern.

15 September 2007: My most uneventful day in a month

At last I’m starting to recover to the point that I can remember what day of the week it is. Everything had become such a blur from working every day. For the first time in a month my team got to spend a Saturday in Balad on a normal schedule. That, of course, meant we only worked a half-day. This morning we met over at the MWR East for mandatory classes. It happens like that. Our higher command will come down with some training that everyone has to attend. On the agenda for this morning was driving safety followed by a class on financial planning. Just as it sounds, both classes were boring shit. I sat in the back and leaned back against the wall. Most of my team was still in a pseudo-daze. We just wanted the classes to hurry up and end.

During the break between classes we did have some recognition for a job well done. I had submitted three of my team members for “Impact” Army Achievement Medals. Each of them was well-deserved. None of the soldiers (actually, one of my Coasties got one too) knew it was coming so it was a good surprise. It’s always a good thing to reward soldiers for excellent work.

After the classes were complete I released everyone for the weekend. The Major who’s here to cover for me on R&R wanted to get some coffee. The two of us loaded up in the Admiral and drove over to the nearest Green Beans. I guess the financial planning class had stirred our neurons because we proceeded to talk finances over coffee. Mainly, we were talking about cars, buying cars, and the pros and cons of purchasing, leasing, and financing. It’s strange to think that in the middle of this place it was almost as though we were talking over coffee at a Barnes and Noble back home.

After coffee we hit the DFAC for lunch. My next priority was a nap. I let the Major take the Admiral so he could run personal errands. Then I crawled back into my bed for a luxurious Saturday afternoon nap. We’d agreed upon a time to meet back up. Around 1700 he stopped back by to drop the key off. I drove over to the gym for a nice workout. It really was a normal day. No work, no mortars, no rockets, no containers, no anything – just lounging and scrounging.

After workout, chow, and personal time online back at the office I went back to the hooch. I watched college football for a couple of hours. AFN was showing Michigan St. – Pittsburgh, Virginia – North Carolina, and some other game. I simply couldn’t hang for the later games. Keep in mind that the “early” games don’t start here until around 2100. Although Florida – Tennessee was coming on I shut the TV off and called it a night.

It was the most uneventful day I’ve had in a month and I enjoyed myself.

14 September 2007: Theme Park Anaconda

I’m definitely back in Balad. All day I was reminded of the little nuances of living here. It seems like every five minutes there’s some type of announcement of an indirect fire attack. Back in Camp Liberty there could be rounds impacting nearby and you’d never hear any announcements. Here in Anaconda you never hear anything except the announcements. It’s no wonder why nobody ever pays attention to them. Well, I mean the AF pays attention to them – they’re always in a state of panicky confusion. Everyone else just ignores the IDF announcements.

Another aspect of living in Balad is the traffic jams. These normally result from the massive convoys that are always coming and going. When one arrives or departs the roads are blocked so the trucks can pull into the staging areas. There may be 100 or more trucks in any given convoy (not including escort vehicles). If you get caught by a convoy you might wait for an hour for the whole thing to get off the road. Normally, I always leave myself an “out” so I can seek a bypass. Sometimes getting caught is unavoidable.

Believe it or not, Anaconda has traffic police. These are hard-core pipe hittin’ AF mother fuckers (I’m being facetious here). They set up speed-traps, pull you over for illegal U-turns, and anything else they can hassle unsuspecting Army personnel with. It’s a good thing they do it too. There’s a war on here. The last thing we need is for people to be speeding at LSA Anaconda – especially us Army pukes. Thank god for the AF ensuring that traffic laws are obeyed.

Balad is kind of like a theme park in the middle of Iraq. I don’t know why there is such a concentrated attempt to make it seem like a normal military base back home. The more they try the more ridiculous it comes across.

Yeah, I’m back in Balad now.

13 September 2007: Fog of war clouds my brain

The fog of war set in today. Basically, that means I walked around in a daze most of the time I was awake. I woke up around 1030, made coffee, and attempted to clear the post-mission cobwebs from my brain. It was a dismal effort. The unit that provides my team operational support was having a poolside gathering with food so I finally pulled myself together long enough to stumble over. I hadn’t seen most of the attendees in over three weeks. I stayed for about twenty minutes. The operations officer was excited to tell me that the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders would be performing at the theater that night. I immediately informed him that my attendance was unlikely. It’s not like they were going to get naked or anything. I’m too tired to hang out in an over-crowded theater full of Joes – all of whom think they’re getting lucky with a cheerleader – and listen to their cat-calls. If the girls were going to get naked then I’d consider. Watching them do a bunch of choreographed dance moves and lip-synching isn’t what I’d call entertainment. If it makes Joe happy then it’s cool. I’ll give up my seat for another Joe any day.

After the pool gathering I thought I’d get some work done at the office. All I did was doze off continually as I stared at the computer screen. Around 1500 I’d had enough and went back to my room. I slept until 1800, went to the DFAC, and came back to the office. The cobwebs lingered. It wasn’t until around 2000 that I finally started waking up. At long last I was able to start tackling the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated in my absence. I didn’t even make a dent.

I’ve resigned myself to the obvious fact that over the next few months of continual missions the administrative aspects of my job are going to take a back seat. Shit will get done when all is said and done. It just won’t get done right now.

12 September 2007: We make it back to Balad

I’m going to add to my job description “Pax Terminal Loiterer”. By the time I leave here there will be reports of my sightings in almost every terminal in Iraq. I’ve certainly spent enough time in them. Where am I going with this? You’ll see. I’ll get to it later.

This mission is complete. The only thing my team and I were doing was waiting for our flight back to Balad. Our return was a C130 flight out of BIAP. It wasn’t scheduled until the evening. With nothing to do I wasn’t inclined to make up something for the team. I told them just to meet up at 1830 and we’d ride over to the airfield. In the meantime, everyone was on their own to enjoy beautiful Camp Liberty for another day. It’s such a lovely place. I think it could double as a five-star resort.

Since I had wireless access, I spent most of the morning sending and returning e-mails. I took a little time to straighten up my CHU. I’m signed for the place through the end of January. That makes it my “home away from Balad” whenever we’re on missions to Baghdad. Having the day to myself meant I could also enjoy yet another meal at the Defleury Café. That’s the name of the closest DFAC. It’s not one of the better mess halls I’ve been to. It’s the only one in walking distance though. Adjacent to the DFAC is a mini-PX, a barber shop, a “Turkish” gift shop, and a KBR laundry facility. After lunch I stopped in the BS for a haircut. My curly locks had grown a little long during the course of the mission. I’m back in standard now.

Sometime during the afternoon there was a big boom. I found out later that a very large caliber rocket had impacted over near Victory Base. I don’t think anyone was hurt – at least nobody mentioned anything. Around 1830 the team started gathering, we loaded all our gear, and we were on our way to BIAP.

If we’d have been a few minutes later we’d have been forced to miss our show time. Shortly after we drove through the security gate the whole place was locked down. The AF guard at the gate said it was a “code 50”. Upon our inquiry he admitted he had no idea what that meant. However, AF security personnel started sealing off all the roads. Emergency response vehicles were posted everywhere. It stirred our curiosity. Eventually, we were able to find out what was going on. A VBIED had been discovered just outside the security gate. Fortunately, it was discovered before it could detonate. We had driven right past it on our way into BIAP. Quite frankly, it was a little too close for comfort.

Once the excitement waned we began the waiting game for our flight. We were supposed to board around 2330. Well…. this is flying in Iraq remember? Yeah, an announcement came around 2245 that our flight had been cancelled. I immediately felt the sinking sensation of another night in Camp Liberty or worse – waiting several more days for the next manifested flight. However, a miracle occurred. There was another flight to Balad that had plenty of space. The AF personnel did the common sense thing and simply rolled all of us over to that flight. We wouldn’t board this one until 0400. That was better than another night or two in Camp Liberty though. We walked to the DFAC for “midnight chow.” Afterward, I sprawled out on a wooden bench for a fitful couple hours of sleep. It’s a sad sight – seeing Joes sprawled all over concrete, wooden benches, and dirt to sleep while they wait for flights. I was just one of them. It’s a scene that gets repeated every time we fly. Fortunately, our back-up flight stayed on schedule. We made it back to Balad. Even though I didn’t climb into bed until 0630 it felt good to be back in my old hooch.

This was the closure I needed for the past three weeks spent on mission. I told everyone I didn’t want to see them again until Friday.

11 September 2007: Six years ago today our lives changed

Although we’re winding down this mission it doesn’t mean we’re running out of things to do. This was just the first of several big missions we’ll be attending to over the next few months. That means we have more soldiers to train for their upcoming redeployments. Our first order of business today was to hold a training class for another brigade that’s headquartered here at Camp Liberty. The class was originally supposed to be in a small classroom adjacent to a battalion orderly room. When I walked in the place was beyond capacity. Everyone was watching the final minutes of the Monday night game between the 49ers and Cardinals. It turned out that a lot more people showed up than expected. The classroom wasn’t suitable so a scouting mission went out to find a bigger place. In the meantime, we watched the rest of the game. A little while later we moved to a small chapel for the classes. When I started the first class I told everyone in attendance that periodically they could give me either a “HOOAH!” or an “AMEN” – both would be appropriate.

Our classes ran until about noon. After shaking hands with everyone my team moved out to the DFAC. We ate fast because there was another appointment. This was an awards ceremony. The brigade we just wrapped up with held a ceremony to present us with certificates of appreciation and brigade coins. It was an informal event so there was no formation. Basically, the brigade XO met with us, thanked us for all our hard work, and made the presentations. The certificates include a print of a James Dietz painting that specifically honors the “Striker Brigade” for their service in Iraq.

Immediately after the presentation we drove to a battalion motor pool to finish a HAZMAT inspection on a container. This inspection represented the last task of the mission. Once we finished we were done. Now we’re just awaiting transportation back to Balad.

I gave everyone the rest of the day off. About the time we got back to our hooches we had to wait out a concentrated mortar barrage. Nothing came close to us but it did shake the earth pretty well. I don’t know what everyone else did but I took a short nap. You know what’s next – gym, DFAC, and chill for the night. It may just be the last night in Camp Liberty for a few weeks. My team definitely needs a few days of recovery. We’ve kicked ass the past few weeks. I’m proud of everyone.

Ok, enough gushing…. I’m still very proud of the team. Six years ago today our lives changed forever. We've all answered the call with flying colors.

10 September 2009: Just like a September evening back home

Around 0400 today an event happened that signaled light at the middle of the tunnel. A Major arrived from Kuwait to “right seat ride” with me for the rest of the month. Why is that so important? It’s important because it means I’m showing him the ropes so he can cover for me when I go on R&R. Every soldier gets a guaranteed fifteen days of leave when they are deployed here for a year. My guaranteed leave is coming up at the end of this month. So, as you can see, it’s the light in the middle of the tunnel. I’ll be able to extract myself from Iraq for a few days, go home to friends and family, and reset my “days without a beer” counter to zero. However, there’s still work to do until then – a lot of work.

I let him sleep in this morning. He came up with a Coast Guard Lieutenant (equivalent of Army Captain) who is here to visit with my Coasties. I did a few work related things until it was time to meet up. We got together around 1100. Next came a whirlwind tour of Camps Liberty, Striker, Victory, and Slayer. I introduced him to several key players he’ll be supporting in upcoming missions that take place while I’m away. I won’t bore you with the details.

The last area we visited was Slayer. I love the name. I like to think they named the camp after the band. One of my favorite South Park episodes is the one when the town turns to Cartman to break up the hippie convention. His strategy is simple – insert a Slayer CD into the hippies’ sound system and it will quickly cause them to disperse. Anyway, back to the story… Camp Slayer is a collection of several small to medium sized palaces. These were all part of a Baath Party playground of sorts. The “play” involved sex parties, murder, torture, and general mayhem. One of the palaces is called the “Perfume Palace” because it resembles one of your grandma’s old antique perfume bottles. The Perfume Palace was supposedly the home for all the whores that serviced Saddam’s top-level cronies. The dominant palace – or what was supposed to be when it was completed – is the “Victory over America” palace. Just like it’s namesake, the palace will never be completed. It was under construction when the invasion took place and now sits abandoned – surrounded by construction cranes. Adjacent to this monstrosity is the oddest structure of them all. It’s like a mini-Bedrock right out of Flintstones. The place is a network of manmade tunnels resembling a fake rock mountain at a theme park. It was supposed to be the playground for the little Baathists.

We toured until around 1600. I noticed my passengers were getting real quiet. It turns out the late night traveling had caught up with them. I took them back to their hooch. I spent the rest of the day and evening just hanging out. Our mission here is practically completed. That means we are working shorter hours for the first time in weeks.

It was a very pleasant evening. If it hadn’t been for a couple of mortar attacks it could have been any September evening back home. Well that is if it’s dusty back home, there’s a lot of military vehicles driving around your place, and you frequently hear gunfire and mortars in the background. So, yeah, it was just like a September evening back home.

09 September 2007: Creating a new island in the Pacific

Damn. What time did I get up this morning? I think it was around 1100. I made it to lunch – albeit in a daze. My morning coffee was at 1300. At around 1400 my body realized that it was finally ok to relax. After several straight nights of late nights and work, continually being outside in heat that equates to a crock-pot primed for a roast, and stamping out “fires” that continually flared up everywhere we went my body was, as my Dad would say, as tight as a banjo string. My bowels awoke in this relaxed state. I don’t remember eating all that I unleashed in that poor toilet. It was as though tectonic plates shifted, volcanic activity ensued, and a new island was created in the Pacific. About seven pounds lighter, I finally got moving on my day. It took walking outside to remember that I was now in Camp Liberty.

My first order of business was to find my NCOIC. He’s a Staff Sergeant from Arizona. Somehow he manages to scrounge and find anything we need. I don’t ask. If I tell him something we need he’ll have it by the end of the day. While I was in UNION III and Camp Taji he had made a major score. Instead of the ambulance hummer we are now riding in a brand new Ford Explorer. He’s got the hand receipt and the dispatch. I’m not complaining. I just looked at him and said, “I don’t even want to know.” Styling in our new ride we went to several motor pools in Camps Liberty and Striker to inspect some of the equipment and containers waiting to ship south. I was very pleased to find that the brigade we’re supporting was a lot further along than I was led to believe. We’ll be finishing this mission within days. I’ll actually be happy to get back to Balad. Hell, we’ve been gone for eighteen days straight. It’s been a busy mission.

I managed to hit the gym for a great workout before supper. I was toying the idea of going to the MWR to watch NFL action (remember that Sunday kickoff here for the “early” game is 2100). Instead I decided to stay in the room. I haven’t had privacy for several days so it was an awesome luxury to have it again. I tuned into the games online. I was following the Patriots-Jets and the Titans-Jaguars games. It was a wonderful opening football weekend. The Pats took the Jets out behind the woodshed for a good old-fashioned ass whooping. Meanwhile, the Titans traveled to Jacksonville to gash the Jags for almost 300 rushing yards. Couple this with the fact that Army actually won too (over that powerhouse URI – 14-7 in OT), and it was a perfect football weekend. I simply had to stay up until the early games were over. I was wired so it took at least another hour to finally go to sleep. When it came it was absolutely lights out.

I have been deployed for 185 days. I’ve been without a beer for 188 straight days.

08 September 2007: Samuel L. Jackson, George Clooney, and SGT Jessica Alba

When you think of a passenger terminal you think of a sparkling concourse full of restaurants, bars, and shops. Call it a pax terminal and suddenly it loses its luster. Camp Taji’s pax terminal isn’t even indoors. There’s a small trailer office behind jersey barriers that holds the KBR flight operations. Right outside the trailer are two shaded wooden bench areas. Next to the benches is a cooler for bottled water. About 75 feet on the opposite side of the benches from the KBR trailer is another trailer that has more benches inside with a TV and AC. As you can see, we get only the best in travel luxuries.

Ok, now that you have that portrait in your mind it should be easier to visualize my day (and night). We had a flight scheduled for 1000. Our ride dropped us off at the pax terminal at 0900. About thirty minutes later we were told everything was on weather hold. The Sergeant who broke the news to us was quite easy on the eyes. She looked just like Jessica Alba. I kept referring to her as SGT Alba. The young Specialist on my team was convinced it was her and that she was role-playing for an upcoming part. Anyway, I digress… It was kind of dusty but it didn’t seem that bad. I’ve lost count on the number of times this has happened. Since the weather didn’t seem that bad we figured we’d be flying shortly. We were wrong. About lunchtime visibility had been reduced dramatically. We picked up our gear and moved it inside the AC trailer. About that time we were told that our original flight had cancelled and that we’d be stand-by for the next available. With that in mind I told my two guys to go eat lunch. When they returned I ate.

Once we were all back in the AC trailer it became a scramble for an open bench. Everyone had the same thing in mind – sleep. I let the Joes get a bench first. I had spied a cot in the back storage room earlier and intended to use it. Once all the Joes were satisfied I went in the back room to stretch out on the cot. Somehow a very fat civilian contractor had slipped in unnoticed and was now stretched out on the cot. At that point I was the only man left standing. The problem was that I wanted to be horizontal. I tried the floor and it sucked. I was about to get up when ingenuity overcame me. I noticed there were four padded stackable chairs. I lined them up side by side. Voila! I had a bed.

About an hour later when I woke up it was to the voice of Samuel L. Jackson. Someone had thrown a “Best of Samuel L. Jackson” pirated DVD on. This is an example of another interesting sideshow of Iraq. I’ve already mentioned the pirated movies for sale in the bazaars. Well these include multi-movie mega-DVD’s that highlight a particular actor. There may be as many as thirty movies on one disc. It could be Sylvester Stallone, Steven Segal, or even Meg Ryan. So getting back to my story, I awoke to “The Negotiator.” After that they chose “Rules of Engagement.” Both of these movies suck. I was just about to leave when they next selected “Pulp Fiction.” I had to stay for that. Once that Quentin Tarantino classic ended I went to the DFAC for supper. A whole afternoon had passed and still no flight out.

When I returned the terminal was even more crowded. There was no longer any room to lay down. Unfortunately, someone had switched Samuel L. Jackson with a George Clooney mega-DVD. I don’t know who but I suspect it was the two Josephines sitting right in front of the TV. First came “Solaris”. Holy shit is that a boring movie. Then came another stinkbomb – “Syriana.” Very fortunately for all of us, around midnight the weather cleared enough for flight activity. By 0100 flights were heading out. Around 0200 my team members and I loaded onto a big Chinook for the trip to BIAP. We arrived about 0245 but our ride was nowhere. I made several phone calls. Finally, around 0330 a ride showed up and whisked us back to Camp Liberty. I was in bed around 0415 and asleep by 0416. Now you know how to spend an entire day at a stinky pax terminal in Iraq watching mostly shitty movies the entire time. Yep, I’ve been there and done that (again) and just wrote the instruction manual for your future reference.

I think I set my personal record for time waiting in the pax terminal. It kind of reminded me of traveling home for Christmas as a plebe at West Point. It was my first time going home since reporting to WP at the beginning of July. Wouldn’t you know it? My flight was delayed out of La Guardia and I missed my connection in Pittsburgh. I ended up stuck in Pittsburgh for seventeen hours. Since I was a plebe I was traveling in Dress Gray with my long gray cadet overcoat. Boy did that suck. Well the airline did give me a food voucher. It still sucked to be the only 18 year old in dress gray in the entire airport. I guess you could say I started training early on for waiting around in pax terminals.

07 September 2007: "Oil Mud"

There’s a weird phenomenon I’ve been noticing occasionally. When it occurs it causes great consternation. It also results in a big mess. I call it “oil mud”. It doesn’t happen everywhere. However, I have experienced this muck in Camps Liberty and Striker. They both pale in comparison to Camp Taji. The first few days we were here it wasn’t a problem. There was evidence of the stuff everywhere. This morning we awoke to find oil mud everywhere. It coated the gravel, the dirt, the streets, and anything that wasn’t paved or concrete. At first I thought it was a treatment that was being sprayed to keep the dust down. Yet it would be impossible to have sprayed all of Camp Taji on one night. The conclusion I reached is that it seeps up from the ground. It happens sometime between midnight and 0600. The crazy thing is that it doesn’t happen every night. When it happens it’s a nightmare. Iraqi mud sticks to everything. When it has an oily texture it smears on everything and simply ruins boots, clothing, floors (from people tracking it everywhere), and gravel areas. It’s so bad that even gravel sticks to boots when the oil mud strikes. I know that dust is a big problem. I’d take dust over oil mud any day. I have a hard time believing that we would have been so stupid as to treat the soil with petroleum in order to mitigate dust. Stranger things have happened though. My hope is that this is either a natural occurrence or a leftover from the environmental disaster that was Saddam Hussein. We pay the price now. I step gingerly everywhere I go and take long detours just to avoid this muck. It’s so prevalent that it’s impossible to completely avoid.

Our day was marked by our attempts to stay away from oil mud. Our mission requirements in Taji came to a successful conclusion when I inspected the last unit at around 2300. Other than that we were very slow. That’s a good thing because we were all about to hit a wall from all the late nights we’d been working. I even took a nap during the afternoon. Damn that felt good.

I made a goofy observation on my way to breakfast. I had just boarded the bus to the DFAC when a group of soldiers ran past headed towards some ruined buildings adjacent to the billets. They were all in PT gear. It became immediately apparent they were rehearsing assaulting the buildings. Well… On board the bus were several soldiers belonging to a brigade that’s headed home after fifteen months. The guys practicing were in a new brigade that had just arrived. The veterans on the bus immediately started heckling the new guys. “Look at me! I’m attacking a building!” Another yelled, “Hey the door’s easier unless you just want to look pretty jumping through the window!” I had to wonder how many generations of soldiers have seen the veterans making fun of the new guys. I was just witnessing the latest iteration. Joes will be Joes. Unfortunately, these new guys were conducting their morning rehearsal straight across a field of oil mud. Not only did they get heckled, they ruined their running shoes too. What a suck-ass morning.

Now that we’re done in Taji we have the next hurdle – getting out of here. The weather has gotten worse. Sandstorms abound.

06 September 2007: Reverse psychology - artillery style

Somebody told me that once August is gone you don’t have to worry about sandstorms anymore. We learned today that’s not true. Out of nowhere the wind picked up this morning. Before long, visibility was down to about 100meters or less. The sand blew all day and into the evening. Since we weren’t finished we had to work in this. The units have timetables they have to meet. Man it really sucked being outside today. I think my hat blew off two or three times – meaning I had to chase it down.

In spite of the weather, we managed to wrap up quite a bit. That means our days in Taji are dwindling rapidly. I don’t think my personnel will be complaining much when we leave. It’s not the worse place we’ve been in Iraq. There’s just something about it that makes it miserable. The biggest culprit is the sheer number of soldiers here. This place is a big transient camp. That’s not true for the whole place – there are units based in Taji. Most of the soldiers here are new and are preparing to push out into outlying patrol bases, camps, and FOBs. Before they do so they stop by Taji to get their mission configuration equipment for vehicles. That takes awhile. They won’t see their first mission until they get to where they are going. For now, the presence of so many soldiers means all the buses are full, the latrine stalls are full, the DFACs are full (perhaps explaining the latrine situation), the gyms are over crowded, and my team couldn’t get decent billets for this mission. It probably won’t be like this next time we visit the place. Hell, last time I was here I stayed in a decent place that was walking distance from everything. This time around I’m completely dependent on the buses, which means I have to fight with Joe for a place to sit. It all works out though. We adjusted ok.

With the sandstorm howling and no more work for the day we settled in for the night. Once again, the big cannons started shooting. It was worse than the previous night. I was rocked out of my sleep continually. It’s reverse psychological warfare. Our own cannons are keeping us up all night. I can see the wall coming fast and I’m going to crash right into the thing.

05 September 2007: Sock emergency

Socks wear out. Around here they wear out fast. This morning I was walking down to spot check some of the containers I’d inspected the night before. I suddenly had the sensation that my right big toe had freed itself from the confines of the sock. I made a quick pit stop to check. Sure enough, the big guy was sticking straight through the end of my sock. Here is where years of Joe ingenuity paid off. A quick assessment and I had a solution. If the hole was over my big toe when worn on the right foot it would be over the little toe on the left. I figured the big toe is the lead right? I switched left and right socks and was on my way. A couple of hours’ worth of walking and inspecting later and my good sock also failed. That troublesome right big toe had made the escape again. Damn! Now I had a gaping hole in both socks. I tried to gut it out for about another hour but when it started getting painful I knew drastic measures had to be taken. I bought another pair of socks. I’ve lost count on how many pairs of socks I’ve worn through here. Add mine to all the socks Joes have worn out and it would probably be a mountain of socks taller than Spear Tops Mountain back in Avery County, NC.

My socks didn’t die in vain. We made huge strides today. What was a huge mess yesterday became orderly perfection. The units we’re supporting had diligently worked at making corrections to the deficiencies we had found in their preparations. There were lots of smiles of relief. The process we’re putting them through is the last mental and physical hurdle they go through before traveling home. When we say it’s looking good it starts to hit them – now we’re going home. Suddenly everything has a rose-colored tint. All tension is gone. Laughs abound. The senior staff of one of the battalions invited me to lunch and supper. I’ll kill lots of socks to keep these guys happy. That means my team is doing our job.

I actually made it back to my room around 2200. It was an early night for us. You’d think we would all go straight to sleep. After working past midnight for so many straight nights our bodies were all in the middle of an adrenaline rush. I guess I finally drifted off around 2350. About thirty minutes later the outbound artillery fire started again. The rest of the night was spent drifting in and out of sleep to the rhythmic concussion and noise of big cannons. Iraq – this place is indelibly burned into the memory banks of my brain housing group. Actually, I don’t want to forget this place. Shit, I never could if I tried. It’s in me forever. There’s my life. Then there’s my life in Iraq. It’s a surrealistic adventure of sights, sounds, smells, and some of the best people I’ve ever known.

My Dad served in Vietnam (I’m not comparing wars here so don’t assume I am). I’ve always been fascinated by his experiences (a Marine Major at the time, he earned two Bronze Star with “V”). Yet Vietnam always seemed to me like a place that wasn’t real, that I could not connect with. I know that friends and family back home will ask me about what I’ve seen and done here on this – and previous – OIF deployments. They’ll react exactly how I used to react to Dad – fascinated but completely incapable of relating. I definitely relate much better now to Dad’s experiences.

Oh… back to that original pair of socks… I threw them away.

04 September 2007: What day is today?

We are losing track of the days right now. It may sound cliché to say that but it’s true. We’ve been working 18 hour days for several days in a row. Since the weather never changes, the temperature never changes, our attire never changes, our surroundings never change (except when we fly to another FOB), and our smell never changes (we all stink and are blissfully unaware), every day is the same as the one preceding – same as the one to follow. The calendar is changing but it doesn’t seem so. It’s a different day of the week but daily I overhear the question, “What day is today?” Every one of us has become as parts of a machine that just continually cycle through the exact repetitions. I guess that isn’t completely true. We do deviate from the cycle. Yet, inexorably, we are drawn back to it out of sheer necessity – our work demands it, the mission requires our focus. What day is it today?

Oh yeah, it was Tuesday. A blur it was. The units are working haphazardly at the things we’re asking them to do. It can be very frustrating. The worst part is that we have to inspect, re-inspect, and re-inspect again. All the while we’re telling them what needs to be fixed. It’s goddamn hot, unforgiving. My team and I take breaks in any AC we can find. Then we walk the several hundred meters it takes just to get to their equipment and containers. Next we walk the two or three hundred meters it takes to look at all their stuff. Sweat pours from everywhere. Slowly we make progress but it can be a maddening process. Today I must’ve walked about ten miles. Every time the sweat dries it makes my uniform stiffer, crunchier, and smellier. I worked today from 0700 until 0200. I estimate that I consumed about eight liters or water. That’s on top of three meals and all the fluids they included.

What’s at the end of the tunnel? I mean, my team and I are having fun. We’re doing this with smiles on our faces. We laugh a lot and make light of almost every inconvenience. So what is it that makes it easy to stay motivated? The units we’re helping right now are going home. The soldiers in these battalions have been here for fifteen months. They’ve endured incredible hardship, pain, and suffering that is inherent with combat. Their blood has stained the Iraqi soil. Some of them never made it this far. When we spend time with them we see the family they’ve become. For the rest of their lives they will never have to wonder if they have what it takes. They do and much more. They leave Iraq with their heads held high, their morale high, and their belief in one another beyond reproach. Ask any one of them if they’d be willing to do it again and you’d get a resounding yes. That doesn’t mean they aren’t ready to go home – they are. They’ve earned it. My team is the green light. We’re the enablers. I can’t think of a better way to serve these soldiers. Yeah our work might suck but you won’t catch any of my team shirking. At the end of the tunnel is the light every Joe has been dreaming of for fifteen long months – home. My team makes it happen.

I dream about home too.

03 September 2007: A junkyard called Camp Taji

Even though the big guns had kept us up all night we had work to do. We were all up and moving by 0700. The rest of the day we ran like a rooster with its head cut off. It was a blur of shipping labels, container inspections, HAZMAT paperwork, and anything else associated with military equipment redeployment. I returned to my room only once during the day. That was just to pick up something. I returned to my room for good at 0100. Get the picture?

Camp Taji is a colorless (unless you consider desert tan a color) place. It was a Republican Guard base before the invasion. There’s a massive collection of rusting tanks, artillery, trucks, and other gear. This was the equipment of what the media always referred to as “The Elite Republican Guards.” They didn’t even fight. Instead they just ran and abandoned all their equipment. I guess that took a special skill too. Would that make them elite? Anyway, back to Taji…. A unique sight here is the presence of a railroad track and rail cars. There are very few railroads in this country. To even see a railroad track is almost a miracle. The line isn’t in use and the few cars are abandoned, derailed, and wrecked.

Camp Taji is also right on the edge of Sunni suburbs to the west of Baghdad. There have been periods of heavy fighting all around. It’s relatively quiet now (VBIED not withstanding). I wouldn’t really say that I’d like to be a permanent party soldier here. However, I can say it’s infinitely nicer than a place like Warhorse. Hell, my billets are on the sight of former Republican Guard officer barracks. We have the nicest community latrine I’ve seen. It has real porcelain toilets that actually flush. The showers work and provide privacy and space. I can’t really complain. Taji just isn’t a pretty place to look at.

Joe does his best to spruce up the place. Give him a can of spray paint and some old Iraqi war junk and he can post messages all day. I guess one Joe spent all his money here and now can’t afford a ticket home. At least that’s what I gather from today’s photo. If I run into the Joe I’ll float him a loan so he can get himself “unstuck” from Iraq.

02 September 2007: Watching the Major drop the ball

Today had a life of its own. It seemed as though it would never end. We did more in one day than most people accomplish in three. It started early – around 0630 – when I got up for breakfast. This was our last day in UNION III so we had to get on up and get busy before it was time for our flight to Camp Taji. Our show time was 1245. That meant we had to wrap our work, make a quick sightseeing circuit of the Green Zone, stop at the embassy for lunch, and check-in at Washington LZ. I’m just warming up for how the day turned out.

We loaded all our gear at 0930 and stopped at UNION I. I needed to walk the line of their containers and ensure they were all in order. They were. It only took a few minutes. Then the sightseeing began. Our first stop was Prosperity Palace. Yeah, I know… I’ve been to all the places I’m about to mention. However, my two team members had not and they were excited. They were snapping photos faster than a couple of Japanese tourists in New York City. They posed with the Saddam colossi, snapped pictures of the wrecked palace, the compound gates, and any thing else that drew their attention. In no time we were off to the crossed sabers parade ground. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get the best photos here because there was a coalition unit having group photos made. My guys had to snap pictures from a distance. Surprisingly, neither of them posed with the sabers in the background.

Our next stop was the embassy palace. For me it was yet another visit to my old MNF-I stomping grounds. It was hilarious to watch my team. Their heads were on a swivel. First they were checking out the palace and the next one of the many females that work there. I gave them a quick tour. Afterward, we stopped at the embassy DFAC. This facility is so far removed from the austere DFACs at the FOBs. Everything is pristine. All the selections are fresh. Even light jazz music plays in the background. The patrons are a mix of high ranking U.S. military, civilians (contractor, state department, etc.), and coalition. It’s incredible to see the number of pretty females. My guys were particularly smitten by a young civilian girl in nice jeans, a pink top that was almost sleeveless, and a pink bandana in her hair. She looked like a college intern. When she got her food she asked a single Major a few tables down if the seat across from him was taken. He reacted with surprise that she had asked and offered the seat. I then gave the play-by-play (because I had a direct view) of the Major. He had the perfect opportunity but he fumbled badly. First he got fidgety – obviously trying to think of something to say. He’d look all over and attempt not to stare. Eventually, he’d say something and then stumble over what to say next. Before long his window of opportunity was dwindling fast. He became more noticeable in his stress. He finished his meal but loitered. I guess he was hoping she’d say something to him. He got a cup of coffee and tried to play Joe Cool. He waited too long. First, a cock-blocking female sergeant sat down next to him and started talking to the pretty civilian girl. Then the civilian got up and left. The look on the Major’s face was obvious failure. I could almost see his lips mutter “fuck” under his breath as he picked up his tray and left. Go sit back down on the bench until your ready to play Major.

After lunch we went straight to Washington LZ. Our blackhawks were on time and we made a short, uneventful flight to Camp Taji. Our contact wasn’t there to meet us so we had to wait awhile at the pax terminal. A thermometer in the shade read 110. It seemed a lot hotter. Our ride showed up about twenty minutes later and whisked us to our billets. We were all roomed together because there’re simply no available billets here. Taji is packed. The units we’re supporting here wanted to wait a day to start but we had none of that. We insisted on getting started immediately. We’re not here indefinitely. The sergeant providing us a ride took us to the first unit. It was located near the main gate. Just as we were walking towards the unit HQ there was a thunderous explosion nearby. The shockwave actually scooted some containers in the same parking lot a couple of inches. A VBIED (vehicle borne improvised explosive device) had detonated just outside the main gate. Thank God – nobody was hurt. It definitely was a break from the monotony though. I actually say that tongue-in-cheek. We could do without VBIED’s.

We ended up working until after midnight. A lot was accomplished. At around 0100 I walked to the latrine and took a shower. It was the first one I’d had in three days. I lingered for about thirty minutes. It felt damn good.

What normally would follow a relaxing shower after such a long day would be deep, relaxing sleep. Well… This is Iraq. Our billets were only about 400 meters from some big Paladins (self-propelled 155mm howitzers). They were sending their deadly packages down range on a frequent interval. That meant we were subject to the concussive blast of the big guns every time they fired. The noise would shake the buildings every time the guns fired. I guess I slept all of about two hours the whole night. I hope the guns hit their targets. They expended a lot of ordnance.

Actually, this was the “Readers’ Digest” version of today. It was even a lot more involved than this.

01 September 2007: Appalachian State? Hot! Army? Not!

College football is definitely back! Thank God for AFN sports. They don’t cover every game but they at least carry games. First, I’d like to congratulate my home boys from Appalachian State for slaying the Michigan dragon in Ann Arbor. That was awesome. The party last night was in Boone, NC. I’m sorry I missed the celebration. AFN didn’t cover that game. Instead, we had to endure the boring Virginia Tech – East Carolina game. The next game was Notre Dame – Georgia Tech. A couple of Captains came into the MWR and started sporting their ND gear. They asked me who I was going to root for and I said Georgia Tech. However, I told them not to worry because I wasn’t staying for the game (it didn’t start until after midnight). I wish I had. GT stomped that ND ass. My final comment on week one of college football is a no-brainer. Army sucks again. Yes my alma mater stunk up the joint again, losing to the Akron “Zips” 22-14. Ouch! Akron? Here’s the life of an Army football fan in a nutshell – you spend all year praying for football season to hurry up and arrive and then after the embarrassment of opening game you pray for the season to hurry up and end (and that the Navy blowout isn’t too bad). By the way, both Navy and AF Academy won their openers big.

Work for today consisted of supervising and inspecting a HAZMAT container. That was an all day process. There is a lot of paperwork involved. The unit kept shitting more HAZMAT as the day wore on. Eventually, we got it completed and my Coast Guard guy put the USCG seal on the door. The battalion movement officer looked like he’d had a major bowel movement by the time we were done. I don’t even have to mention that it was hot outside while we were doing this. Oh wait, I just did – it was hot.

Fortunately, it looks as though we will be able to do some sightseeing after all. My team is quite relieved at that. I’ll just watch them have fun because I’ve seen the Green Zone many a time.

31 August 2007: "One plane ride away from being ugly.."

Walking into the DFAC this morning brought happiness to every Joe. Every TV was tuned to AFN Sports, which was showing ESPN Sportscenter. The highlights from Thursday night college football were on. That’s right! Football season is officially here. There was even one game still playing when I arrived. LSU was cruising by Mississippi St. 45-0. Apparently, there had also been a full slate of NFL pre-season as well. Next weekend the pro season begins for real. This is good and bad. The good is that football season is everyone’s favorite. The bad is the time difference. AFN will show games live. We’re eight hours ahead of EST. That means sleep patterns are going to be disrupted severely for a lot of Joes who are staying up all night to watch football. I’m sure that by mid-September every FOB will look like Dawn of the Dead.

My team really didn’t need to do much today. We’ve made all our recommendations and we’re waiting for the unit to complete the tasks we outlined. Once they do that we’ll go back out and inspect. For the most part, we spent our day indoors. That’s a good thing too because it was another scorcher today. I even took the first afternoon nap I’ve had in well over a week. By evening time the unit was reaching completion. It looks as though we’ll be able to finish up Saturday.

Unlike the last time I was at UNION III, we’re not getting around the Green Zone on this visit. The two team members I have with me weren’t here last time so they are a little disappointed. We’re so close to the crossed sabers, tomb of the unknown, and Prosperity Palace. It just doesn’t look like we’ll get over to see them though. I keep reassuring them that we’ll be back to the Green Zone. If at all possible, I’ll make certain they get to go on a sightseeing trip before we leave. If that’s the biggest of my worries then we’re doing great. At least spending the entire time on the FOB has afforded me to gather some Joe thoughts. Just today I was in the latrine and noticed the stall had been paid a visit by both "Hard-up Joe" and "Introspective Joe".

Hard-up Joe normally shares wisdom on his female counterparts. Today's wisdom was as follows:

"Attn All Female Soldiers! You are all one plane ride away from being ugly! Again redeem yourselves and give it up once in awhile. Stop imposing a standard you don't uphold yourself"

Then came introspective Joe. He summed up Iraq.

"Iraq - this will all be a boring movie some day"

Perhaps the movie will be based upon my blog. That would definitely make for a long, boring movie!